


Kings of the Seven Seas

by WandererofStars



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 15:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererofStars/pseuds/WandererofStars
Summary: After the Stan O' War II barely makes it through a violent storm, Stan and Ford become stranded somewhere in the northwest of Ireland. Ever the incorrigible flirt, Stan will meet a hot-tempered Irish girl in a crowded inn and find himself dragged to a bar fight to defend fair lady's honour.Reader's discretion advised. Watch out for flying stools, knuckle sandwiches, dwarves armed with glass shards and Ford's death rays!This work was a commission to the beautiful Princess Unattainabelle. ❤ It's been a long time since Stan had the chance to put his brass knuckles to good use!





	1. 1

The ship hit the granite wall with more force than expected, its hull grazing against the hard surface, driving both sailors into a state of panic. The captain turned the wheel several times over, trying to salvage what he could of the damaged vessel. Curtains of rain and thunder relentlessly assaulted them as they tried to reach the shore. The wooden boards painted with the ship’s name now floated on the raging waves, the letters **Stan O’ War II** briefly illuminated by a distant thunder as they drifted further and further from the ship, disappearing beyond the horizon.

The brothers had barely repaired their vessel less than three months ago, after their expedition to the unexplored subterranean ruins of Iceland. In just the course of a day, all their hard work was undone. The sailor in charge of repairs wailed about how the paint job was practically ruined.

‘Damn it, Stanley! This is not time for jokes!’ shouted his brother from the captain's station, his voice being drowned by the raging storm. The name in his life jacket read Stanford Pines. His locks flailed wildly against the violent gusts of wind, his trademark fringe having become a wild mess of tangled hair. Some locks were plastered to his face and roundish glasses, making it difficult for him to see ahead properly.

The ship rocked so violently it took everything from him to hold the wheel in place, lest they would be swept away and dragged into the eye of the storm. He was wrestling against nature itself to make sure they survived this sudden change of weather still in one piece.

‘Who said this was a joke, Sixer? It took me two weeks to finish that paint job! Now it’s all ruined!’ his brother shouted back from the deck below, water already by his knees as he held a small bucket in a futile exercise to throw the water now flooding the deck back into the sea. He wore square glasses, a red sailor cap and a striped white shirt. Aside from the rather protuberant belly and different hairstyle, he shared his brother’s face. Only the trained eye could spot the subtle differences between Stanley and Stanford Pines.

‘Stanley, watch out!’ he warned, advising his brother to hold onto something.

The ship crashed against the steep shore, lunging the brothers forward. Their bodies swerved and they were thrown of their feet. Stanley rolled all the way toward the bow, some loose barrels rolling along with him. He was lucky he wasn’t crushed under them. As for Ford, he was thrust from the captain’s station and landed on the deck below with a heavy thud. The life jacket he wore cushioned the fall, avoiding he would sport a pair of broken ribs.

The thunders grew louder, getting dangerously close to where they were. Ford immediately got up and warned his brother they would better get to solid ground and stay away from the water or they would be electrocuted. He was already searching for the plank to allow them to disembark when Stan disappeared inside the captain’s cabin. Ford immediately went after him.

‘We’ll gather our belongings later! We need to get the hell outta here and into safety!’

But Stanley insisted they couldn’t just leave the ship unattended. Pirates could show up and steal everything after the storm.

‘Just gimme a damn second, Sixer! I just need to get one thing or two!’

‘Hurry up! We’re not safe here!’ his brother insisted, heading to shore and landing on soft sand.

* * *

 

The Pines twins waited in a nearby cave for almost an hour until thunder could no longer be seen or heard. The storm wasn’t so bad once you had the chance to admire it from a safe position. or at least that’s what Ford thought, an opinion his brother didn't share. Stanley shared some cookies and water he had salvaged with Ford. Once rain had stopped pouring, they hurried back to the ship and stored their most precious belongings in a secret compartment.

‘We can’t bring all this with us. We would only be robbed blind on the road and have no way to contact Soos or Fiddleford.’ he said, shutting the hatch close and placing the furniture back on top of it. ‘Stanley, did you lower the anchor?’

‘Aye, Sixer. She won’t be going nowhere.’ Stan replied with a confident smirk.

‘Good. Then half our problems are solved. Now we must determine where this storm carried us to and if there are any means for us to gather supplies and able hands to restore the Stan O’ War.’ Ford said, picking his phone.

He opened Google maps and found to his relief the place they had ended up had a wifi signal. So they weren’t stranded in the middle of nowhere.

‘Thank heavens. I thought we’d be stranded here with...cannibals and...wild beasts or something.’ he let out a relieved breath.

‘Ye’re reading too many novels, Poindexter. As much as ya like that sci fi nerdy stuff, we’re not in a 19th century novel where a guy sails around the world and meets savages. We’re probably somewhere on the coast of England or something.’ Stanley pointed out.

‘Almost accurate. We’re actually on the northwest coast of Ireland.’ he smiled.

He brought the phone’s bright screen close to his brother’s face for him to take a look. Stan recoiled a bit, shunning the strong light from his eyes. It was as if someone was pointing a flashlight at him. Why did those gadgets kids used to day have to be so damn bright? As he adjusted his sight to the white light, he could see the app had pinpointed their location.

‘And as it happens, there’s a small town up ahead with - oh, just our luck! - four places to stay.’ Ford added, reading their names aloud. ‘We can stay in the Eire, the Brogan’s, the Dolan’s or The Mute Siren.’

Stan frowned. ‘The Mute Siren?’

‘It’s probably a reference to that animation Mabel likes so much.’ Ford said casually.

‘The Little Mermaid?’ Stan asked.

‘That one.’

Stan couldn’t fathom for the life of him why would anyone christen their inn with the name of a Disney animation. It was one of those mysteries of life which was simply unsolvable. Like the reason why chicken had wings if they couldn’t fly. Or why people drank decaf coffee if they didn't want to drink anything based on caffeine in the first place.

‘So, we’re stuck in Ireland, huh? Pops once mentioned this country and it stuck in my head, but I never had the chance to visit anywhere outside America. Whaddya know? Life sure works in a funny way.’ he scratched his chin, flashing a smile. ‘But...should we just leave her here?’ he gestured to the ship, his voice full of concern.

‘We’ll alert the coastal guard. They’ll tow her and bring her to the closest harbour.’ his brother suggested.

‘How do we even contact them? I mean, where’s the coastal guard in this country? What’s their number?’

Ford quickly stroked some keys, his fingers moving so fast Stanley could barely follow their motions. ‘There! Already did it. I contacted them on Twitter and informed them of our situation. They replied me shortly after and told me help is on the way.’

Stanley stared at his brother with a comically stunned look, mouth agape.

‘Ya did all that just using your phone?’

Ford arched his eyebrows. ‘Why yes, Stan. Social networks are incredibly convenient. Dipper taught me how to use Twitter, Facebook and Instagram to me before we left for our trip.’

Twittr..? _Facelook_ ? _Instant gram_? Stanley had no idea what Ford was talking about. He just stared back at his brother as if his hands had grown yet an extra finger. He followed Ford out of the cave and toward the town, still mesmerized by how his brother had solved their problem with just a few keystrokes. Technology was sure more advanced than anyone could have ever dreamed of.


	2. 2

As it turned out, they decided to look for shelter at the closest inn. They were tired, hungry and soaking wet. They needed dinner, a bath and a good night’s rest.

They approached the inn where there was a plaque written The Mute Siren. Stan arched an eyebrow.

‘So, The Mute Siren it is, then?’

‘The Mute Siren it is. It’s the cheapest and closest around. Also, the only one with any rooms available tonight.’ Ford added in a skeptical voice, turning off his phone screen.

A happy tune played inside accompanied by clapping. Through the window they could see the inebriated customers enjoying themselves bated by a warm light. The place looked rather inviting for two strangers who had been caught in a storm. Stan and Ford exchanged glances and walked toward the door.

They had barely advanced three steps when a large, muscular man walked by in a fast and determined pace, stomping his heavy feet on the ground. The twins barely jumped out of his way when they saw he dragged a terrified-looking drunken oaf through the mud. They watched as he threw him unceremoniously out the door.

‘If I see your face around here again, I’m tearing your limbs one by one, you hear?’ he growled.

They waited until he had returned inside to open the door once again. Stanley glanced briefly at the agonising customer, now lying on the muddy street before following his brother and entering the inn. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

* * *

 

The tables were nearly all occupied. The smell of cooked meat and beer filled their nostrils. A small band played in the corner as the public clapped along to the traditional Irish songs. All in all, it didn't seem half bad. That is, if they managed to stay out of trouble.

The twins had to stand near the entrance for almost five minutes until a dwarf came to ask them what did they want.

‘We’re looking to stay the night. Our ship crashed and we’re waiting for the coastal guard to tow it. We’re also looking for supplies.’ Ford said.

The dwarf’s face lit up with a smile at the prospect of profit. He invited them to sit in a secluded table near the kitchen, under the stairs to the second floor and away from all the noise and the hustle. The place was packed tonight, and the waiters had a hard time moving around. One of the large tables was occupied by a large group of men eating pork and drinking beer. Something about them irked Stan. He silently watched as once or twice a customer from that very table would ask a waitress for more beer and cast suggestive glances at her as she walked by.

He groaned and turned his face away.

‘I know, Stanley. This was not my first choice either. But it was the only inn with vacant rooms.’

‘Yeah, I know, Sixer. I’m not blaming you. It’s just...’

He gestured toward the large table with a subtle motion from his head. Ford watched the group talk loudly and sit with their feet on the table, whistling at the waitresses as they passed by.

‘I see.’

The dwarf had returned with a notebook and a pen, ready to write down their request for supplies.

‘Name’s Arnaud. I’ll be your host tonight. My sister and I run this place. Her name’s Elaine and she’s the official hostess, though it's really just Elly for short. She’s also serving as bartender in the night shift.’

He pointed at a gracious young woman with long hair, rosy cheeks and bright, if somewhat, fierce eyes. She smiled quite often when a patron came to talk to her and made sure to keep the bar clean and tidy at all times. She also snapped at customers who tried to get closer to her, slapping them in the face with a piece of cloth and yelling at them to _“get the hell away from her bar”_. She noticed her brother pointing at her and waved back,checking who were the new customers from afar.

Ford quickly turned his attention away from her and resumed talking to the dwarf, making sure he got all the information right. Meanwhile, Stanley seemed to be under a spell, unable to unglue his eyes from Elly. His mind went blank, his heart was pounding in his chest, his neck and cheeks were hot and he felt himself sweating through every pore. His eyes gleamed as he watched that feisty lady work with such zeal. He watched as she wiped the counter clean with the cloth, how she poured the drinks skillfully, how she looked so fierce and attractive when scolding bad customers, how she took a moment from all her work to check herself in the mirror and adjust her hair in a side braid, moving her fingers through her delicate locks in graceful motions…

‘Did you check how much water we had left aboard, Stanley? Stanley? Stanley!’

Ford banged his six-fingered hand angrily on the table once and snapped his brother out of his reverie. ‘Are you listening to me?’

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m listening.’ he said absent-mindedly.

‘What did I just ask you?’

‘You wanted to know whether I had checked...something.’

‘Brilliant, Stanley. Do pay attention! I’ll need your help checking whether we have everything we need before we set sail again.’ he said in a reproachful tone.

‘Why are you even worried about this right now? It’s not like we can just take her and sail right away! Did you see what those rocks did to our ship? The whole right side of the hull will need to be restored!’

‘It’s called thinking ahead, Stan.’ he patronised his brother. ‘Arnaud, thank you for running the list with me. Now, what about the room you said was available?’

‘Right. It’s the 618. Up the stairs, right at the end of the corridor.’ the dwarf said, handing him the key. ‘Will you stay for dinner?’ he added.

‘Don’t you have room service?’ Ford asked.

‘Not since one of our customers smeared the walls with a plate of mashed potatoes and urine. Took us a week to clean everything up and to get rid of the stench.’

The brothers stared back at him, disgust etched on their faces. Why on earth would anyone do that?

‘Towns near the sea like ours attract all sorts of people. Some of them are nice, decent folk. Others...not so much.’ he said.

Ford thanked him again and the dwarf scurried back to the kitchen, fetching the menu. He soon returned and took their orders. Since the place was crowded, they would probably have to wait for a while until they were served. Ford noticed his brother went back to staring at the young lady manning the bar. He had given up trying to count how many times his brother did that. He let out a long sigh. This was going to be yet another failed attempt of his brother to court a woman. He already knew how it was going to end. He just couldn’t fathom why Stan still insisted in performing this futile exercise every time they came to shore.

‘I’m going to hurry up ahead and get settled. As soon as you’re ready, come and join me.’ he said, getting up from the table.

‘Aren’t you going to come down for dinner?’

‘I will. But I need to get out of these wet clothes. What about you?’

Stan had gone back to staring at the lady and didn't hear a word he said after the first sentence. Ford just headed upstairs without another word, shaking his head.


	3. 3

Dinner still hadn’t arrived. And judging by how crowded the place was, it wouldn’t arrive any sooner. Stan drummed his fingers on the table impatiently and glanced at Elly’s direction once more. Some patrons were bold enough to try to woo her, but she just ignored or downright dismissed them. He could tell she had a certain spunk. He wondered what would interest a woman like her. Suddenly, he had a bright idea.

‘Excuse me.’ he repeated as he made his way through the crowd trying to reach the bar. Just as he was halfway there, a big burly man stood on his way.

Stanley rose his eyes toward the towering man, who stared back at him with a scowl. It was the bouncer responsible for keeping order at the inn. He looked angry for some reason and cracked his knuckles. Stan swallowed hard and tried not to whimper. Thank god the place was busy and he couldn’t see his trembling legs and wobbling knees.

‘Uh, excuse me. I’m, er...I’m just going to get a drink from the bar.’ Stan said, trying to keep his cool.

‘...I’m watching you.’ the man warned him, and then allowed him to pass.

Stanley let out a relieved breath and marched toward Elly, feeling determined. The bar wasn’t so crowded. Probably because the bouncer caught another customer misbehaving and shoved him outside.

He’d better be careful or he would be the next one being thrown out of the place. Ford would give him and endless sermon if they both got thrown out because of his stupid attempt to court a lady. Especially now that they were stranded and without supplies.

Elly saw him sit on a stool adjusting his cute little red cap and threw her cloth at her shoulder, addressing him. ‘Hey, sailor. Ye’re new around here, aren’t ya?’

Stan did look like a sailor in those clothes. He flashed his signature smirk and rested his elbows on the counter.

‘Yep. Matter of fact, it’s my first time visiting Ireland.’

‘Indeed? ’ she arched her eyebrows. ‘And pray tell, what brings ya ta this corner of the world?’

He was about to answer ‘You’, but Stan had enough bad experiences by now to know that was the wrong approach with women like her.

‘Oh, ya know; the usual. Adventure. Fame. Riches. Not necessarily in that order.’

She chuckled. ‘So ya sail for fun, huh? Ya sure don’t look like a young sailor ta me, though.’

‘Age is in the mind, toots. If yer heart stays young, ya never grow old.’ he winked at her.

Elly just had to laugh at that. Stan felt the gaze of every patron on himself. He had managed to do what so many had failed at: to charm the toughest woman in town.

‘Ye’re really something, er...what’s yer name again?’

‘Stanley. Stanley Pines. But just call me Stan.’

‘Alright, Stan. So what will ya be having tonight?’ she asked, and he noticed she was now smiling.

‘I’ll leave that to ya, sweetheart. Surprise me.’

She arched her eyebrows again, chuckling. ‘Alright. Just don’t complain if this burns every inch of yer throat. Irish drinks are among the strongest drinks ya can drink. It’s none of that watered down shite they sell in England.’

Stan thought of asking whether it wasn’t Scottish drinks which were the strongest, but something told him to keep that to himself. Maybe his guardian angel was watching over him tonight.

She poured him a shot and Stan drank it all at once. She was pretty impressed when he did so. And then she bent over clutching her stomach as she laughed at how red he was and how much he was coughing. Still wheezing, she handed him a water bottle and watched him desperately chunk down its entire content down his throat.

‘The hell, toots? Did ya give me pepper juice?’ he asked. She laughed even more at the jaded look he threw at her.

‘I told ya, t’is some strong stuff!’

He let out a loud ‘Ahh’ and checked the bottle’s label. It looked like your regular whiskey. He made sure to memorise the label. Next time Ford drove him up the walls with one of his hissy fits, he was going to surprise him with a little harmless prank. Harmless. Yeah. He smirked at the thought.

‘I saw ya talking to my brother over there. Ye’ll be needing lots of supplies, aye? What happened? Ship got caught in the storm?’ she asked suddenly.

‘Aye. We were sailing away from the coast of Iceland after me and my brother went on an expedition and them BAM! A storm suddenly caught us!’ he rested his head on his hand and looked glum. ‘Ya shoulda seen what it did to our ship. I worked so hard to restore her! Now she’s almost turned into a wreck!’ he said, sounding disheartened.

He was so heartbroken about the shipwreck it surprised her. If anything, it made him an unusual sailor, but not in a bad way. ‘Ya do care a lot about yer ship, don’t ya?’ she asked fondly.

‘Aye. It holds special meaning ta me and my brother. We dreamed of sailing around the world ever since we were kids! Repaired our own ship, even, when we were teenagers.’

Elly couldn't help but sympathise with this sweet and earnest old man who tried to live his dreams of youth. She fetched a tall glass and poured some beer from her private stock.

‘Here ya go, sailor. Have one on the house!’

He stared at the glass, mistrustful.

‘Go on! It’s not like that stuff I gave ya.’

Still weary, he grabbed the glass and drank...and to his surprise, it tasted like nothing he had ever tasted before.

‘It’s good, eh?’ she asked.

‘It’s really good!’ he emphasized. ‘Like ya said, none of that watered down shite.’

They laughed together and he toasted to her good health. The other patrons were getting annoyed at how the foreigner had become friends with their special girl so quickly. The bouncer scanned the bar with a pair of fierce-looking eyes and it was enough to disencourage anyone from trying to disturb the couple.

‘So ya said ya were on an expedition with yer brother?’ she asked.

‘Uhum. Been at sea for almost a year now.’ he said.

‘Really? Ya must have all sorts of stories to tell!’

Stanley almost choked when she said that. Here was the opening he was hoping for. He immediately plunged into a creative retelling of his and his brother’s travels around the globe. He loved to entertain people with his crazy ass stories, always spicing things up with last minute details his mind fabricated at the spur of the moment. As was usual with Stanley, he exaggerated on the dangers he and his brother had faced or how heroic their actions had been. But even as she snorted at what were obviously made up tales, he could see Elly was entertained by them. His heart did a somersault at every laugh that came from her peach lips and he enjoyed every second he was observed by those glinting eyes.

The evening seemed to pass smoothly when the customers sitting at the large table began to complain loudly about customer service.

‘Hey! Bartender! Where’s my goddamn beer? I’m not gonna ask again!’

The man who shouted drew stares from the crowd, but otherwise people still kept talking loudly and laughing. The bouncer was now staring straight at him, eyes flaring, growling with his massive, heavily tattooed arms crossed. Arnaud hurried to his table and asked what the problem was. He shoved his empty glass into the dwarf's hands, almost knocking him over and complained once again about the slow service.

‘Yeesh, what’s the matter with’im?’ Stanley asked.

Elly let out a long sigh and rubbed her forehead, looking annoyed. ‘These hooligans better not start a fight in my bar. Bernie from the Eire told me they shooed his whole clientelle last month after they started a food fight and punched everyone that tried to stop them. Apparently the crab meat wasn’t to their satisfaction.’ she grunted.

Stanley had started his fair share of food fights when he was just a kid, but never to ruin other people’s businesses. And he certainly wouldn’t like if one the Mystery Shack’s customers did something similar. ‘Now that’s just stupid.’

Elly agreed and eyed the customers, folding her arms. Arnaud returned a few moments later followed by another waiter with the requested order. The unhappy customer sniffed the drink and yelled once more, complaining this wasn’t what he had ordered. Then he did something despicable.

He simply rose from his seat and poured the entire glass over the waiter’s head. When the dwarf started complaining and demanding he leave the inn, he grabbed Arnaud by the scruff of his neck and walked toward the bar. Nearby, the band went silent.

The dwarf flailed madly, his face beet red as he struggled to escape the man’s strong grip and found himself being shoved in Elly’s arms rather roughly.

‘Here! Do something about this useless midget. He can’t even take my orders right.’

Elly’s eyes were flaring. Stanley could tell she was furious.

‘Watch how ya speak! That’s my brother ye’re talking about!’

The man banged his heavy hand on the table once and she winced. He watched her try to keep her composure and smirked, eyes twinkling with malice.

‘You’re certainly a feisty woman. I can tell. But listen: why don’t we, er...settle this upstairs, eh? Maybe get in one of your rooms, talk this over...I’ll even throw in an extra tip for all your services, sweetheart.’

Elly, Arnaud and Stanley just stared back at him wearing the same astonished expression.

‘I have a better idea. Why don’t ya go screw yourself? Get the hell outta my bar!’

The man scowled and then grabbed her chin forcefully, making her wince. Elly motioned to break free while he chuckled at her futile attempts and pulled her closer to kiss her...

‘Hey!’

He slowly turned toward Stanley, who looked incensed.

‘Didn't ya hear the lady, pal? She told ya ta scram!’

The man merely threw him a contemptuous look, never releasing her chin.

‘I wasn’t talking to you, grandpa. Get the hell out of here before I punch you in the teeth.’ he said in a loud menacing voice.

Stan cracked his knuckles, furious. He had met many men like him in his lifetime. He knew just what sort he was dealing with.

Elly spat on the rude man’s face and aimed a punch at him, but he held her hand in place and twisted her wrist, making her wince again. Stanley got up from his seat, ready to defend her. Other patrons stood up as well, standing close to him.

The bouncer had finally waddled through the crowd, ready to defend his employer. He grabbed the hooligan by his shirt and tried to punch him in that ugly face of his, but the man was as strong as he was and just as good in a fight. The patrons watched as the bouncer was thrown in the ground, drawing gasps from the crowd. Elly lowered her hand and Arnaud passed her a whiskey bottle beneath the counter. When the man returned to harass her, she broke the bottle on his head. Somehow, he didn't collapse on the floor, but was now bleeding from his skull.

‘Why, you...’ he called her names, all alluding to her being a scarlet woman, yelling that this wasn’t going to stay like this. Patrons and hooligans stared at each other, throwing daggers. Tension was high in the bar. Soon enough, both groups lunged at each other and the band began playing a fast tune.

‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ the rest of the crowd chanted, banging their fists on tables and stomping their feet. This wasElly’s worst nightmare. She was still paying her debt to the bank after purchasing the bar from the previous owner. She couldn’t afford new furniture or spend a dime with repairs. But that hooligan had started the fight, hadn’t he? Well, it looked like she would have to teach him a lesson.

Stanley growled at the ugly looking hooligans and lunged at them, joining the fistfight. He was old, but he still knew how to throw a mean punch. Ford didn't know, but ever since the Weirdmageddon, he went back to practice his boxing. And after months sailing to all parts of the world and meeting all sorts of dangers, he was more than ready to defend himself and anyone that needed help.

Hearing the commotion downstairs, Ford recognised a hoarse voice shouting and hurried to the source of the noise.

‘Dammit, Stanley! What did you get yourself into this time?’ he said to himself, rushing past the door.


	4. 4

The brawl had barely started when Ford arrived downstairs. The bar looked like it was a scene from a western movie. People were being thrown over the counter, their bodies smashing the otherwise carefully arranged glasses and bottles in the shelves. Most of the stools had been thrown at a patron or another and hit random customers. The dwarf was nowhere to be seen and Ford wondered if he had been either stomped to death or was hiding in the kitchen. Even the cooks came to help, brandishing their utensils at the hooligans. Someone had dipped hot chicken soup all over a group of three burly men, soaking them head to foot. The people nearby slipped and fell on the wet floor, making other people trip over them.

Some customers swiftly got on their feet and bolted through the door when one of the flinged stools came crashing down on their table. All the while, a cheery, fast-paced tune incensed the brawlers even further as the band played in a corner. Ford questioned their sanity as they kept playing, dodging flying chairs and sharp objects being thrown around.

He turned on his electromagnetic gloves and jumped out of the way as a customer was thrown in his direction by one of the hooligans. The man crashed against the wall and soon got up, shaking his head and wiping the blood gushing out of his nose, ready to fight again.

 _This is madness!_ he thought, searching for Stanley in the crowd.

To his surprise, two figures stood at the center of the crowd, punching the hooligans away. The couple fought back-to-back, with the sailor wearing a brass knuckles that shone against the light, punching anyone that “wanted a knuckle sandwich”. Meanwhile, the lady on his right used the remains of what looked like a vandalised chair to bash the hooligans anywhere she could hit them. Ford recognised them as being Stanley and Elly. He had to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. How did Stan’s flirting with her turn into a bar fight?

‘Get out of my way, grandpa!’ he heard someone yell at him, shoving him aside. Ford lost his balance and fell on top of a table. It broke under his weight. He scrambled back up and went to help Stan, punching people out of the way and electrocuting the stubborn ones with his gloves.

‘Stanley! Stanley!’ he shouted as he moved through the crowd, his shouts drowned by the loud yelling, the music and the sound of chairs and tables breaking.

Meanwhile, Stanley sported a bleeding nose, a swollen eye and several bruises, but he was wearing the biggest smirk his brother had ever seen. He gladly dodged fists thrown at him and punched his opponents back, feeling as thought he was back in Glass Shard Beach, brawling against the bullies that always harassed him and his brother. Speaking of Ford…

He could swear he heard Sixer’s voice in the crowd. Or was he imagining things, his own hyperactive imagination playing tricks on him?

‘Stanley!’ he heard, perking his head. He was definitely not imagining things.

‘Sixer? Sixer! Over here! Come over h-GAH!’

A particularly strong man had punched Stan squarely in the jaw. He feel on the floor with the sheer strength of the blow.

Ford panicked, worried his brother might not wake up. He turned his gloves’ power to maximum and started electrocuting everyone standing between him and his brother.

‘GET THE HELL OUTTA MY WAY!’ he shouted, reaching the man who had knocked Stanley out. The man turned around only in time to see a gloved hand grab his wrist and send 5,000 volts traveling through his body. He cowered and ran away from Ford, terrified of whatever weapon that insane old man had used against him.

‘Get back here!’ shouted the leader of the hooligans, seeing him flee.

Ford had finally reached his brother. Elly was kneeled next to him, begging for Stanley to wake up.

‘Excuse me.’ Ford asked her, drawing a vial from his pocket.

He forced Stanley’s mouth open and made him drink the liquid. Stanley spit some of it, coughing hard. Once the concoction started having its effect, though, Stan got back up on his feet, feeling his blood boil. If he had been craving for some fight before, boy, was he incensed now! ‘What the hell did you give me, Sixer?That thing tasted awful!’

‘Cephalopod’s urine mixed with powdered mushrooms from Dimension 39. The best elixir in the Multiverse.’

Stanley stared back at him in utter disgust. ‘ _The hell???’_

He felt Elly hug him from behind, glad he was alright.

‘Heh. Don’t worry, babe. I told you they’d have a hard time knocking me down!’ he winked at her. The bartender promptly kissed his cheek. Ford blushed watching that mushy scene.

‘Now’s not the time for flirting! We’re being assaulted!’

‘Ooh, looks like someone’s all upset! What's the matter, Ford? No one's been kissing you lately?!’ he wiggled his eyebrows, making Elly snicker.

‘It’s not that, you knucklehead!’ Ford said, shooting a ray at a chair that came flying toward them. Stan and Elly crouched, avoiding the flying pieces of the destroyed furniture.

‘I’m not the one who wasted my chance to get smooched at the last port.’ Stan teased him.

‘Shut up, Stanley!’ Ford said, annoyed.

Stan was about to retort, but the twins didn't have much time for talking. The assaults kept coming. The leader of the hooligans advanced on Elly once again, displaying a malicious smirk. Out of nowhere, Arnaud seemed to spring from the floor and hit his ankle with another bottle of their finest beverage.

The man howled in pain and cursed under his breath, grabbing Arnaud and throwing him at her. Stan and Ford grabbed him in the air and Elly shouted behind them.

‘Give him to me!’

The twins exchanged a glance and did as she requested. They stood in front of her, ready to protect her from the burly man when they heard the sound of shattered glass. They turned around and saw Elly was grabbing Arnaud by the waist, who held half a broken bottle extended in front of him like a weapon.

‘Seriously?’ Ford said in a skeptical tone. Stan, however, was beaming.

‘Brilliant!’ he said, allowing her room to fight. Holding his knuckles firmly on his hand, he got ready for round two, while Ford stood on Elly’s other side. Each twin protected her from flanking attacks while she brawled against the vile man who had insulted her honor.

‘I’ll teach you to respect me, you...’ he insulted her again, advancing on her. She brandished Arnaud like a spear, holding him by the waist and ankles, making the big burly man flinch and hop away, afraid of being hurt by the broken glass.

Meanwhile, Stan distributed free knuckle sandwiches to the crowd, his brass knuckles leaving their mark on chins and cheeks. Teeth flew as he punched them, shouting Bull’s eye every time he knocked someone out. Ford could hear him howling with laughter on the other side and couldn’t help but smile. Thank god even after all these years his brother had never changed.

Rays sprung from his hands, keeping his assailants at bay. Once or twice one of them tried to get to him and he removed a grenade from his pocket, tossing it at their direction. The bomb released a green gas that made them choke . It was enough to scare the others so they wouldn’t try to get any closer.

Almost all hooligans had been knocked out. But their leader still refused to surrender.

‘What’s the matter? Afraid of a girl and a dwarf?’ Elly teased him. Arnaud wore a ferocious look. He was tired of being diminished because of his size.

The big man tried to slap Elly’s hand, but the dwarf scratched him. His hand was bleeding. He growled and grabbed a chair, tossing it at her and her brother. Ford was quicker and blew the chair to pieces with a carefully-aimed shot. Stan positioned himself in front of them, protecting them from the falling debris. Ford then threw one of his last grenades at the assailant, a different looking one and it hit the floor, producing a red smoke.

‘Now! Get him while he can’t see!’

The man shut his eyes, howling in pain. His eyes stung and he was blind. Stan and Elly advanced on him, punching and hitting every inch of him with chair legs. The man was knocked out cold in seconds.

The inn fell silent. Everyone was heaving and took a moment to look around. The place was a complete and utter mess. None of the chairs had survived the assault. Only a couple of tables were still standing. People were lying on the floor, which reeked of chicken soup, blood and sweat. Most beverages in the bar had spilled all over the floor. It would take Elly and Arnaud months to restock everything.

The four of them exchanged looks and Stanley began to laugh. He hadn’t had such a good fight in years. Despite his better judgement, Ford fell for his contagious laugh and began to giggle. They had sure gotten into worse messes, but this one topped all of them!

Elly and her brother stared at the twins and, for some reason, started laughing as well. Their inn was ruined, the authorities would come in the morning to take their statement and the whole town would be commenting on the brawl. But who cared? The hooligans had been knocked out. Or at least most of them.

One of them got up and gingerly tried to stand on his feet. He watched the group laughing and stared at the strange pair of old twins. One, a feisty sailor with a mean punch and the other a crazy tech fanatic shooting death rays from his palms.

‘Who da hell yer two think yer are?’ he asked in an angry voice.

Stan and Ford stared at each other, the twins looking like a reflection of each other, wearing the same smirk and arching matching eyebrows. They stood together, holding each other with one arm and turned to the hooligan with a look of defiance.

‘We’re the Pines twins! Kings of New Jersey, Vanquishers of Demons, Travelers of the Multiverse and now Kings of the Seven Seas! And you’d better get used to it, ‘cause we’re here TO STAY!’ they said in unison.

Elly and Arnaud giggled and stared back at the hooligan, hands on their waist as they addressed him.

‘The Mute Siren doesn’t welcome pirates, hooligans and troublemakers. Now SCRAM. Else we’ll have to bust your asses again!’ they shouted together.

The hooligan just stared back at them, unsure as to how his group was beaten up by a pair of old men in geriatric diapers. In the end, he just shrugged as he left the bar, shoving some unfortunate people out of the way as he went back to the ship, dragging his boss’ heavy unconscious form with him.


	5. 5

**Later that day…**

‘Ouch! Careful, love. That hurts pretty bad!’

Elly recoiled at his protest and applied the ointment more gently to his bruised knuckles. Stan already seemed like a pretty strong guy from afar. But now, as she sat so close to him, she admired his well-toned arms and torso. There was also some visible chest hair from the torn fabric of his shirt. She tried to steal a glance or two at his strong, hairy chest when he was too busy looking through the window, lost in thought.

‘There. Done.’ she said, tying the gauze around his knuckle.

‘Thanks, toots!’

Stan lay down in bed, tired of all that brawling. Elly lay down by his side, resting from all that fighting and stealing a glance at him or two. They stood in comfortable silence, hearing each other breathing and the sounds of crickets outside. A sweet tune was being played downstairs. Somehow, the band members still played as the staff cleaned the bar as best they could. Rain had begun to pour outside again, accompanied by a pleasant cool night breeze. It was nothing like the raging storm from earlier, though.

Ford was downstairs, helping the staff by fixing the furniture with his eccentric inventions. It would take a while to repair all the furniture; time which Stanley and Elly could spend together, alone in the bedroom until his return.

Stan swallowed hard, wondering how to best address her. He wasn’t very subtle and had had his fair share of trouble with women, mainly due to his fault. He could smell her perfume from such a short distance. I mean, she was practically lying down by his side. His heart pounded in his chest and he wondered how on earth she couldn’t hear it. Maybe she could. Most likely, she pretended she didn't, waiting for him to make the first move.

He stole a glance or two at her and their eyes met briefly as they glanced at each other at the same time. Both of them turned away almost immediately, blushing.

‘So, er...I saw how ya defended yerself. Pretty impressive stuff, if ya ask me! Where did ya learn ta fight like that?’

‘Dad established this inn way back when. Pirates and smugglers were always trying to start a brawl. I am the eldest child. After my brother was born, he thought: _weeell_ , _I sure ain’t leaving the safety of this place ta my son_. So he started training me ta fight. Arnaud was the one who learned how ta take care of the family business instead. And he does a good job at it!’

Stanley didn't expect that answer. ‘So ye’re the one who actually protects the bar while yer brother runs it?’

‘Aye.’

‘Isn’t it usually the other way around?’

Elly giggled. ‘Not in our family. Besides, I liked teaching those hooligans a lesson.’

Stan turned to look at her. ‘Aren’t ya afraid one of them might hurt ya? Or do something terrible t’ya?’

‘Nah. I’ve been fighting fer years! Also, we have our bouncer, Leon. Plus a couple of fateful patrons who always stand up ta defend the inn.’

‘Oh yeah. That guy.’ Stanley said, reminded of the ugly scowl the man displayed at the sight of him.

She chuckled again. She had watched the scene from the bar. The face Stanley made when staring at the giant of a man was priceless. He had gone paperwhite and she thought he would collapse on the floor at any moment.

‘You and yer brother are Americans, right?’

His eyebrows shot upwards. ‘How d’ya know?’

‘Yer accent.’

‘Oh. Hehe. right. Of course.’ he gave a weak laugh, scratching the back of his head.

It was Elly’s turn to look at him.

‘So tell me, sailor...when are ya returning ter America? If I may ask?’

Her voice was so sweet it dripped in his ears like honey and her eyes gleamed in the candlelight. Stanley smiled.

‘Oh, I don’t know. Depends on many things.’ he teased.

‘Such as?’

‘Depends on how long it’ll take ta fix the ship...how long ta resupply her...If we might need help with the local authorities...’ he listed, getting slightly and imperceptibly closer to her while pretending to readjust himself on the mattress to become more comfortable.

‘Yeah?’ she asked, looking eager for him to go on.

Stan cleared his throat. They were so close now he could feel her breath brush against his cheeks. Boy, what is hot in here or what? He kept babbling on about the many reasons his brother and he would be stranded in Ireland while his eyes began to travel through her face. Her beautiful hair had a subtle reddish hue, her cheeks were so rosy, her greenish eyes were lit as she listened to him, the few freckles on her face were adorable and her skin looked so soft up close…

He suddenly stopped talking and started brushing her hair with his fingers. She allowed him to caress her, relaxing under his ministrations. Then he brought a few locks close to his nose and closed his eyes as he absently sniffed them. Stanley saw her face become suffused with red and she tried to hide her face in the sheets. Stanley smirked at the sight, realising she might be a pretty tough lady on the outside, but loved to be courted like any woman.

He touched her shoulder first, then caressed her cheek once she lifted her face from the sheets. The next step would have been harder if Stanley didn't know she nurtured feelings for him. Very slowly, he approached his face from hers and smooched her, trying to contain his nervousness. Once their lips met, she stood quite still, savouring the touch of his lips on hers for a moment before holding his face between her hands, feeling his stubble against the tip of her fingers.

Stanley held her by her waist as they kissed, feeling her hands travel to his hair and intertwine themselves with his locks when the door suddenly burst open.

‘Stanley, I’ve been calling you for the past five minutes! Why haven’t you- oh!’

It was Ford who had come bursting in. He looked every bit awkward for having caught his twin in bed with a woman.

‘What the hell, Sixer! The door was closed for a reason! Don’t ya know the meaning of privacy?’ Stan shouted at the door, going red in the face.

Elly wished she could sink in the bed and disappear between the sheets.

* * *

 

 

The brothers had to wait a total of two months until the Stan O’War II was completely repaired. Most of the work was done by Stan and a couple of locals under Ford’s guidance who happened to have fought alongside them at The Mute Siren. There was a consensus amidst them that the foreigners were brave and tough, and thus worthy to be helped. Nobody liked pirates, troublemakers and hooligans around these parts anyway. But sailors who knew how to brawl, ready to defend a woman’s honor were more than welcome.

When the work was done, Stanley would go back to the inn to spend time with Elly. The patrons were mesmerized how easily he had charmed his way into her heart. Apparently the young lady had a thing for sailors, especially those who happened to be flirty, elderly men.

Because the twins had helped to defend the establishment - and Ford had surprised everyone by using some sort of highly advanced technology to help repair the damage in record time -, Arnaud decided to let them stay for free. He even threw a discount for the supplies, which pleased Stan greatly. Who would have thought his shameless flirting would have helped him save some bucks! He patted himself on the back and told himself he was the luckiest man alive. Love and a hefty discount. He was enjoying his stay in Ireland more and more.

The last day had arrived and the twins had to say their farewells to their newfound friends. They slowly made their way downstairs and everybody was gathered, holding parting gifts. They were patted on the back, even hugged by a more teary-eyed patron or another and handed several homemade items that would remind them of their beautiful country as they sailed the seven seas. When it came to saying goodbye to Arnaud and Elly, the brothers felt a lump in their throats.

Stan rushed to hug Elly as she did the same, and they caught each other in a tight embrace. She sobbed on his shoulder and he fought his hardest not to break down. Arnaud watched his sister with a smile, while Ford let his brother take all the time he needed, standing around with his hands in his pockets.

The lovers stared at each other, looking flustered. Stan wiped her tears with his thumbs. She looked beautiful even as she cried.

‘Those two months have been the best of my life.’ he said, voice wavering.

‘Will ya come back to visit me?’ she asked in a small voice.

‘Definitely.’ he smiled, and she could tell he meant it.

Ford approached Arnaud and the two shared a handshake.

‘Thanks for everything. I couldn’t have repaired the ship without your help. And your supplies will allow us to sail for at least another month.’

‘My pleasure, Ford! Thank you for having helped to defend my sister and me. Next time you visit Ireland, don’t forget to pay The Mute Siren a visit. We’ll let you stay at the presidential suite this time!’

Stan and Ford left town, waving goodbye to the small crowd and headed to the harbor. The Stan O’War waited for them, fully resupplied and ready to sail. Once they had clearance, they climbed aboard, checking whether their belongings hadn’t been stolen. Ford drew a list from his pocket

‘Well, seems like everything checks.’ Ford said, verifying the items listed in his notebook. ‘If the weather is agreeable, we should head to our original destination, then.’ he said, ready to take the captain’s station.

‘Wait. Poindexter, ya steered her last time.’

Ford crossed his arms. ‘Don’t tell me you want to stay up there for 2 hours while you could be down here relaxing? Because last time I trusted you with the wheel, I found you sleeping on it and we were way off our destination by fifty miles!’ he said, sternly.

Stan made a face at Ford, drawing a rare chuckle from his brother. Ford rarely laughed or showed any emotion other than his usual seriousness. The only thing that made him smile were scientific discoveries or reading the new published theories on his favourite scientific magazines. _It’s alright, Stan. By the end of this trip, he’ll be even laughing of your jokes. Just gotta be patient._ he told himself.

‘Alright. Let’s take our stations. Oh, and Stan, fetch the map for me, will you?’

‘Aye, captain!’ he said, rummaging through the chest.

He found Ford already on his station typing something on his phone. He thanked Stan and both brothers stood side by side checking their position on Google Maps and then looking back at the map. After some discussion, Ford had made his mind. Next stop, the Bermuda Triangle.

‘I thought ye’d avoid triangles after all that bad stuff that went down with that yellow asshole of a demon!’

Ford looked up from the phone at his brother. ‘Nope. All that’s in the past.’

Stan didn't know what to think of his brother’s speedy recovery.

‘Ya know, Sixer, sometimes ya scare me.’

Ford arched his eyebrows. ‘How so?’

‘That demon went inside yer mind, messed with ya from the inside out and ya just... rationalised it all away!’

Ford’s mouth was agape. ‘Oh, it’s not like that at all, Stan!’

It was Stan’s turn to be surprised. ‘No?’

Ford shook his head. ‘I just know now that, **no matter what happens, you have my back** . But at the time, I was too blind to see it. I worked alone for a long time. I trusted no one. **And I had forgotten I had always had a brother there for me**.’ his voice wavered almost imperceptibly with emotion. ‘After this business with Bill was over, you reminded me of what I had forgotten. And you keep reminding me every single day, brother. So, I made peace with my past.’

Stan had never expected his brother to make such a speech. And to think he had lost his patience with him trying to get him to apologise all those months ago for having brought him back through the portal!

His voice was even more hoarse than usual as he murmured ‘Thanks, Sixer.’

Ford smiled quietly, seeing his brother looking the other way for a moment, pretending not to wipe tears from his face, poorly disguising a sniff or two.

Ford raised his eyes to look at the open sea ahead of him. The smooth waves stretching beyond the horizon looked inviting. The sea breeze caressed his hair, messing his locks. He adjusted his glasses and combed the loose strands of his fringe away from his face. Stan brought the map to him so they could double check their destination. The journey would be a long one, and the seas weren’t always gentle. Regardless, the twins would brave all obstacles together, their resolution never faltering as they battled and brawled against whatever the Unknown would throw at them. They were the sibling explorers. The Kings of New Jersey. Vanquishers of Demons. Travelers of the Multiverse. And very soon, Kings of the Seven Seas. With nothing to pull them apart, once they set their minds to it, there was no dream beyond their reach.


End file.
